


wearied weeping soul

by orphan_account



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Free Verse, Poetry, Sad, dramatique, unedited, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 10:17:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17222102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: in the chest of the weeping soul / is a hole, no bigger than the palm of a child's hand / were it empty / one could put one's hand through it / and find one's arm reaching out the back of the weeping soul





	wearied weeping soul

 

in the chest of the weeping soul

is a hole, no bigger than the palm of a child's hand

were it empty,

one could put one's hand through it

and find one's arm reaching out the back of the weeping soul

but to this day it is stuffed to the brim

with an odd sort of collection

there are pencils

and small folded papers with smudged notes

little baubles and coils of string

crisp autumn leaves found on the street

and somewhere, i hear, a stuffed toy

"what's the point of this hole?"

they ask

"i mean, what is it supposed to hold, exactly?"

"well," answers the now wearied soul,

"i suppose it should hold anything i like,

for it once held the Love of ones i held dear,

but this Love was torn from me one day,

so i suppose it is now mine

and mine to fill

with whatever i please"

**Author's Note:**

> as i wrote this out, i found it sounded much like a poem about a break-up. while i don't mind it being interpreted that way, i do feel the need to point out the original intent, mostly because i'm sad and in the mood to overshare. my parents do not support a huge part of my identity, and in fact they outright said that they never would, to my face. i began to think on this and the fact that support from friends and acquaintances may make it feel better, but never genuinely fill the void created by the lack of support from my parents. i thought something like, 'no matter what i do, there will be an incomplete part of me.' and then i decided to make a sad poem about it. now maybe i can get some sleep.


End file.
